


One Call

by theauthor2010



Category: Glee
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-25
Updated: 2011-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:56:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theauthor2010/pseuds/theauthor2010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has wondered about making that one call to Mr. Schuester - but not about underage drinking, no, he'd had his fill of that. (Child abuse warnings)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Considerations

Sam was a cocky bastard when it came to his body, but only when he could afford to be. Tuesday afternoon, sitting down gingerly in one of those brutal rock-hard chairs in rehearsal was not one of those times. He hurt, he was in so much pain, a lot of pain and his bruises were deep this time, not the kind that weren’t too bad and that he could easily conceal with makeup and an excuse. He was lucky that his face was unmarked this time. The last two times that he had showed up to school with a bruised face, he had used the standard excuses (he got hit with a football, he walked into a door…) and they worked, but really, how long would they work?

The current record was a year and a half until people started questioning things, but that was last time.

Ugh. Santana was really getting into the petting and crap too, crawling up into his lap and pressing their lips together while they waited for their teacher to arrive. Even his girlfriend’s tiny weight just hurt right then. He groaned in pain when she shifted, her body brushing against a massive bruise under his ribs. She quirked an eyebrow at him before she turned completely around in his lap to face him. “You okay blondie?” she asked.

“Perfect,” he said, putting on his game face. “Pulled a muscle at the gym and I’m really sore. It’s totally killing me but I’m always alright.”

She took that excuse, quieting and kissing at his neck. Sam put his hands on her waist, trying to respond. The bruising was so extensive today that he wore a shirt with long sleeves and a high neck. There was literally no skin exposed on his entire body. His girlfriend, of course, did not seem pleased by this, her hand snaking its way into his shirt. He tensed some and took a deep breath.

He luckily was saved by Mr. Schuester’s sudden arrival. “Santana, can we please save that for later?” he asked, obviously made uncomfortable by the teenage PDA in front of him.

“Yes, sir,” she said, slipping off of Sam and into her own seat. Sam sighed with sudden relief that he hoped sounded something like disappointment.

He had to admit that he was totally thankful for the interruption. It was much easier to hide the bruises and discomfort before he and Santana had started dating. She was such a physical girl where with Quinn, anything physical was something that he initiated. He eased into his seat and listened, giving his all to focusing, because he needed that. After a really bad night, the little lessons in glee, well they meant more to him than just little lessons in glee. Today it was a bit of a rant on Mr. Schuester’s part, but it was still comforting in its own way.

Sam watched his teacher, thinking something that he had thought several times since receiving the man’s phone number a week and a half earlier. What would happen if he were to call him the next time that his father went crazy?

The man was a good teacher. Sam wasn’t going to lie and say that he was perfect, no, he made a lot of mistakes and was often misguided, but nobody could say that Mr. Schuester didn’t care about his students. He tried harder than any adult Sam knew. He cared. Sam had always kind of felt like an outsider as the new guy, but Will Schuester cared about the glee club and now he was a part of that.

When he extended his phone number to his students as a protection against underaged drinking, Sam had not thought once about calling him – at least, not about the drinking. Yes, the entire glee club had a week that was filled with binge drinking, but Sam was not a real drinker. He had more than his fill in that week alone. He did think about making that call though for other reasons. Would it change anything though? He really had a set of doubts, still.

“Sam.”

He snapped to attention when he heard his name. “Um, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he admitted, quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright Sam,” the teacher said gently. “I was talking to you about this male part. I want you to take it when we perform this song at Regionals.”

Sam looked down at the music that Santana was holding, the music that Mr. Schuester had passed out while he was zoning. It looked nice, or so it seemed. He didn’t really know much about those kinds of things but he could handle anything. “Yeah I can handle that,” he said, giving a half smile. “Thank you.”

“Where’s your head today?” Santana asked, leaning into Sam’s shoulder. “Thinking too hard doesn’t suit you too well.”

“I just got a lot on my mind,” he said, stiffly.

The rest of glee was a blur, honestly. He sang the parts that he was given and Mike showed him how to do some weird piece of choreography where he spun his partner (Quinn, awkwardly enough) to the side and she crossed behind him. He started to leave when the rehearsal session ended, but was pulled aside by his teacher.

“Sam, you were really off today. Are you alright?”

God, the man really did care about his kids, when they didn’t seem to be alright. Maybe there was a chance he was different than all the rest. He nodded, quickly. “Oh yeah,” he said. “I’m fantastic.” God, he was a horrible, rotten liar.

He thought about making that call again when Mr. Schuester looked into his eyes and spoke.

“Sam, I don’t want to meddle in the personal lives of my students, at all, but…you know if you ever need to just talk I’m listening alright? I know breaking up with Quinn has been really hard on you and well, I’m not sure moving onto Santana is the best thing, so yeah. I’m around.”

“I’ll talk to you if something goes bad, Mr. Schue. Of course.”

He had to wonder again about that call.


	2. This time it never came.

After a particularly brutal beatdown Sam usually expected his father to go quiet for awhile. It was part of the pattern of abuse and abuser guilt he has watched since he was small. He may not have been the smartest kid, but Sam was observant. After his father beat him senseless, there was a sort of two week-two month period of attempted retribution, or something like it. Those were the weeks Sam looked forward to. His father's guilt never lasted but the temporary reprieve was nice.

This time it never came.

He could hear his father's heavy snoring in the next room. The sound brought him to tears. He hurt, everywhere and couldn't stop coughing. He was pretty sure he had a cracked rib or something because fuck, it hurt to breathe and coughing was agony. He rolled onto his other side and tentatively got up.

He had curled into a fetal position somewhere during the beating and his body was painfully cramped as a result. He uncurled his useless muscles and stood on shaky legs. Oh god. He had seriously thought the man would kill him this time.

 _"You're fuckin' useless..."_

His father's words still lingered in his ears, just as the bruises still lingered on his body. He tiptoed to the mirror and took off his shirt. His body and confidence was marred. He was covered with fresh, deep purple bruises that did a poor job of covering the greens and yellows of the attack that was only a few days old. His lip was split open too. Sam exhaled and despite himself, he cried.

 _"It's your fault I live this shit life in middle of nowhere, Ohio."_

He just couldn't make the hurt go away. Seeing himself cry only made his self loathing grow. He hit the mirror, but then looked around frantically, hoping he didn't wake his father. A moment passed with no sound and he exhaled.

 _"Such a little mess. Freak. Don't you wish they could all see you now?”_

Everyone would hate him if they knew how weak and unconfident he was. He would not be the guy who got with girls like Quinn and Santana if they knew how weak he was. He wouldn't be popular. He wouldn't be liked. His dad was right, he was a huge freak, a guy who just wanted to nerd out and truly be himself but instead he molded himself to be the guy his dad was. He was just like Marc Evans - he was an athlete, he dated beautiful girls, but it would never erase the failure that was heaped up so high, which escalated abuse that had already been escalating every time he did something his father wasn't proud of.

 _"Never gonna be more than this. Nobody cares about you."_

Sam thought for a moment. There was a chance someone did. He replaced his shirt with an unbloodied one and walked outside. It was freezing cold and he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans but he didn't care. He didn’t even feel the cold, strangely enough. He took out his cell and found the contact he'd made for Mr. Schuester. He dialed.

It rang several times, long drawn out rings that felt like torture. He almost thought of hitting the button to end the call, but he would not allow himself to. He willed himself not to. If he didn’t call, then he would have nothing more to live for than a life with no moments of peace. It was getting out of hand and it was time he called someone, reached out for someone, got himself some help before he ended up offing himself to make it stop.

“Hello?”

He froze. It was hard to open his mouth, to respond, to just say what he was dying to say.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

Sam managed to make his mouth work, for a moment. “It’s Sam. Mr. Schue…I need…help,” he mumbled, low. It was hard to speak.

“Sam, are you alright?” the man asked.

He shook his head slowly, and then realized that he was on the phone. “No, no, I’m not alright,” he said frantically.

“Are you drunk, Sam?”

He laughed at that. He was definitely not drunk. Tears began to fill his eyes, burning them. Ow, it was really starting to hurt. “No, no I’m not drunk,” he said. “I’m just hurt; really hurt and I need help. I didn’t know anyone else to call who would actually c-care or be able to do something.” He couldn’t see because of the tears anymore. He was crying, despite the fact that his tears made him ashamed.

He closed his eyes, but the tears slipped right through the cracks.

“Tell me where you are Sam,” the man said calmly. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you right away.”

Sam gave his home address, telling Mr. Schuester that he would be on the corner of Miller and Adams, the nearest cross-street. His father wasn’t going to wake up, but still he wanted to get a good distance between the house and himself. The man hung up and Sam slowly made his way toward the corner.

The cold began to burn his skin. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, hard. It hurt. He wiped his lower lip with his hand, finding that it was still bleeding. He didn’t really give a damn. He shivered and leaned back against the light post. His heart was thumping hysterically in his chest.

Oh god, the cold was horrible.

Just as he thought he was going to start absolutely bawling, he saw headlights. It came from his teacher’s run down car. Sam opened the door and crawled inside. “Sam, oh my god,” the man said, looking him over and starting to drive. “Are you okay?”

“God Sam,” he said, before the boy could answer. “What are you doing out there in the cold dressed like…”

There was a moment and Sam could see the realization flash through his teacher’s eyes. Mr. Schuester had just taken in the bruises, his split lip and the way he looked. He felt more vulnerable than ever. He wrapped his arms around himself as the older man turned up the heat, immediately.

He pulled into a parking lot minutes away. He unbuckled his seatbelt and started to look Sam over. Sam did everything he could to avoid his teacher’s eyes as the man assessed him for injuries. He whimpered as Mr. Schuester touched his cheek and forced him to look directly into his eyes. “What happened to you Sam?” he asked.

“I…I hurt,” he explained. “My chest hurts. I’m like, really worried he might have given me a broken rib or something…”

“Who?”

“My dad,” he said, meeting the man’s eyes and seeing the things he feared most. He saw sympathy, fear, pain and worry.

“Alright,” Will said, going straight into a take-charge mode that Sam admired so much. “I’m going to take you to my apartment, it’s just down the street. I’ll check you out and if we think anything’s broken then I’ll take you to the hospital. I’m gonna help you Sam. You need to rest now, alright?”

“Alright.”

Rest was not something he easily understood but he would try.


	3. Things would go his way.

Sam looked around his teacher’s apartment. It was nothing special and it seemed kind of lonely, but he had always been under the impression that Mr. Schuester was a lonely guy. He sat down on the couch, gingerly. Ow, he totally was starting to hurt, everywhere. He looked around, awkwardly.

“Here, let me get you a blanket or something, then I’ll grab that old first aid kit,” Will mumbled, looking incredibly nervous. Sam had never seen him look so nervous and upset. He grabbed a blanket off the back of a chair and handed it to Sam. Sam wrapped it around his shoulders, unable to stop shaking from how damned cold he was.

He rubbed a hand over his forehead. He was getting a splitting headache. He laid back and listened to his teacher bustle around.

Will walked back into the room with a first aid kit in hand. "Totally unused," he said, shaking his head. "I probably wouldn't have even had one but I took it with my things the divorce. Terri insisted we have one and all."

Sam could tell that his teacher was just rambling to comfort him, but it worked. He briefly noticed the flash of pain in the man's eyes, so he spoke to ease them both. "That's really cool. Uh I'm ok, except my chest hurts bad."

Will nodded and took some ointments and a washcloth from the kit. "Here, you can use this to clean your face up," he said, handing the boy the cloth. "God your eye..."

"Yeah, it's sort of puffed up..." Sam mumbled.

After he washed his face, his teacher applied some sort of gooey stuff to his lower lip. The contact was so personal, so intimate that Sam shuddered, hoping Mr. Schuester didn't feel it. "Th-thanks."

"Can you take your shirt off? Gotta see if we need a hospital.”

Sam hesitated, but the earnest look given to him didn’t allow him to object. He took off his shirt, sliding the fabric off as delicately as he could. He watched his teacher’s eyes. He was horrified by what he saw. Sam looked down to see that the bruising was deep and extensive. It must have been horrifying to someone who rarely saw injuries that bad. Sam was used to what he was seeing on his own body.

"How long has this been going on Sam?" he asked. His expression wide and terrified, Mr. Schuester made Sam feel like he was going to cry. He genuinely cared.

Sam groaned and wiped his eyes. He had to stop the crying before he was absolutely humiliated. Nothing was more humiliating than crying in front of another man. He swallowed down his tears as best as he could. "Forever," he murmured, not sure how to give a date and time to something that had always just sort of been the state of his life. He couldn't date when it had first happened. He was young, his parents divorced and then there was this. "I'm sorry...I'm trying to stop crying like the absolute mess I am, I just..."

"Don't worry about it Sam," the man said gently, looking straight into his eyes. "You don't have to feel ashamed or embarrassed here. I think we may have to take you to the hospital. Also, we don't have to think about it now but I want to report your father. As soon as I take you to the hospital, questions are going to start being asked and we need to do this.”

He gently touched Sam’s chest. Sam groaned out in pain. Yes, something was broken.

Sam looked into his teacher’s eyes and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I never – uh thought about that when I called, but uh, I guess it is going to have to happen, isn’t it?” He did not know how he felt about his father being turned in. It would feel nice to be safe, to have that man behind bars where he could never hurt him again, but at the same time this was his father. Sam wasn’t sure he was supposed to feel exactly comfortable about putting his dad away. Also, where would he go if his father was in custody? “I’m sorry that you have to deal with this. I just didn’t know who else to call.”

Mr. Schuester shook his head from side to side slowly. “No, no Sam, don’t worry about it,” he said, handing Sam back his shirt. “I’m glad that you called. You really needed to call someone and yeah, I’m glad that I could do anything to help you.”

Sam slipped his shirt back on. “Should we go now?” he asked gently. He really wanted something that would make this pain stop happening. He was hurting so bad that he wanted to literally jump off of a building right about then to make it stop. He also was thinking and he could not figure it out. What was going to happen next?

“Yeah that’s probably a good idea,” Will said.

Sam nodded and got up, walking to the door. He watched his teacher grab his keys and follow him back to the old car. Will unlocked his door for him and Sam got inside. He sat down and held his breath, knowing that it was going to get harder from here on out. This was really happening, the thing that Sam had dreamed about for years. He was going to expose his father for the abusive asshole he was and maybe, just maybe, things would start going his way.


	4. My only hope.

The hospital emergency room intimidated Sam the minute that he walked inside. He knew the magnitude of what he was going to be doing and the horror of what would happen when it was brought to the surface that he was being abused. He started to think about the rumors, the way that people would treat him and the ambiguity of his destiny, where he would end up and he felt like he was going to vomit.

“This place is insane,” he said, as they walked up to the receptionist’s desk together.

Thankfully, Mr. Schuester did all of the talking, because his mouth was dry and his voice was no longer his own. He was beginning to really think. What was going to happen to him? Mr. Schuester was going to reveal that his father was abusive and then what? Sam was not going to have anywhere to go. He did not have any relatives that wanted him. He wasn’t even sure that he had any living relatives out there, the way his family had moved. He could not burden Mr. Schuester with more of his problems, so there was no way he could stay with him. He was going to be without a home, thrown into foster care or something worse.

He didn’t even know who was going to help him pay these hospital bills. He was just a kid, this was insane. He couldn’t do this.

He was interrupted, pulled away from his thoughts by his teacher’s hand on his shoulder. “Come on Sam,” the man said, leading Sam towards the waiting room chairs. Sam found a seat in one of the hard chairs and then looked at Mr. Schuester, panicking a little bit. “What am I gonna do?” he whispered, barely even realizing that he was saying those words out loud. He did not even know what he was referring to, but he didn’t know what he was gonna do.

“Hey, let’s not worry about that right now. What we need to worry about is getting you fixed up. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Sam inhaled sharply. He had never had someone want to take care of him. Not that Mr. Schue probably wanted to take care of him but at least he was trying. He had never had anyone give him that kind of tender care. It was just such a sudden thing, a blow to the heart. “Okay,” he mumbled gently.

“You can’t worry right now. All you need to know is that you got someone taking care of you now.”

Sam nodded slowly. He did have someone taking care of him and it was a pretty amazing feeling. “He pushed me over the edge tonight,” Sam mumbled. “I couldn’t let it keep going on.”

“You did good Sam.”

Oh god, there were the tears again, flowing harder than ever. “I…”

“Sam?”

The dam sprung a leak, because Sam could not stop crying. Mr. Schuester shifted his chair so that he could wrap both arms around Sam and pull him into a hug. He had always heard that it was like illegal or something, for teachers to hug their students like that but he accepted it. When was the last time someone had hugged him? He leaned his head on his teacher’s shoulder and winced when the undignified raw sob made its way out of him.

Oh god, he was sobbing, clinging to Mr. Schue like he was his only lifeline.

“I just wanted to make it stop, finally,” he whispered. “It had to stop some time or I was gonna lose it. It had to stop.”

He held onto the older man, clinging until he heard his name.

They were shown to the back of the emergency room. Their only privacy was a soft colored curtain. Sam looked around and waited. It was weird, sitting in the curtained off little world when so much was going on outside of it.

It was surprisingly not long until a doctor came in. The man was older, with grey hair and wide eyes. “Sam Evans?” he asked.

“That’s me,” Sam mumbled, taking off his shirt because he knew the doctor was going to ask and he didn’t want to be asked that question again in one night.

“What happened?” he asked, as he began to examine Sam’s chest and stomach.

“My dad came home from work,” Sam said, trying to keep his emotions out of it. “He was pissed off and I got in the way, so he started smacking me around. He got rougher and…well, you can see it for yourself.”

“Who are you?” the doctor asked, eying Mr. Schuester.

“I’m Will Schuester, I’m Sam’s teacher,” he said. “Sam called me to come get him.”

The doctor ran his hands over Sam’s chest. Sam inhaled. “Alright we definitely have a break here, I can tell,” the man said, “but I have to get some x-rays done. We’ll send you over to a tech right now. While we do, you and I must talk, Mr. Schuester.”

The doctor called for a woman to come and take Sam to get x-rayed. He went through it, pretty numbly. He knew that Mr. Schuester and the doctor were talking about his father and the things that he had done to Sam. He was not ready for this but at the same time he was more than ready for this. Despite what some of the people in his life thought, Sam knew that he wasn’t stupid. Sure, he wasn’t quick to catch things and his dyslexia made schoolwork hard, but he was smart enough to know that he was being physically abused and deserved better.

When he returned, trying his best to keep from jarring his pained body, Mr. Schuester handed him some pills and smiled weakly. The doctor was gone.

“Doctor Rowland told me to give you these pills for the pain,” he said gently. “Sam, he’s called the police, they’re going to want to talk to you when they arrive.”

Oh god, it was all happening too fast.

Sam swallowed the pills and took the water, quickly. “I never even thought about talking to cops or anything,” he told his teacher, quietly. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I mean, I always thought about calling cops on him but I’m just not ready.”

“You’re going to be fine Sam,” the man said, rubbing his arm. The gesture was tiny but comforting.

It did not take long for the police officer in question to arrive. Sam was a little surprise to see that it was a woman they had sent to speak to him. She had dark hair and soft grey eyes. She didn’t look that old, either. “I’m Officer Reyes,” she said, gently, shaking both Sam and Will’s hands. Sam shook her hand, slowly. He was intimidated by her and he wasn’t exactly sure why.

“Sam,” she said quietly. “Doctor Rowland has told me that you’re here because your father harmed you. I need you to tell me what happened tonight.”

Sam recalled the night, telling her about being hurt, being insulted and battered down into the ground. He did not let his voice waver for a second, though he had been crying half the night. There was something about this woman and the way that she looked at him with pity that choked him up. He could not take anyone’s pity.

“How long has your father been abusing you?”

Not that question again. He could not take that question again. “Forever,” he said, using the same answer he had given Mr. Schuester because it was probably the most accurate. “He’s been doing it since I was a little kid but it’s become a lot worse now. He used to just throw a smack my way once in awhile.”

“Why did you call your teacher Sam?”

“Because he was the only one I thought might be able to help,” he admitted, realizing how sad that sounded. No wonder this woman was acting like she totally pitied him. The only person he had thought of calling was his underpaid high school Spanish teacher. Nobody else would even give a damn, even if they knew that he was being beaten up all the time now.

Mr. Schue had been his only hope really. “I couldn’t take it anymore,” he said, looking up. “He was my only hope.”


	5. Forgettable

Sam did not speak until he was safe in Mr. Schuester’s apartment. When he finally did speak, it was to ask the question that was weighing in the back of his mind. “What’s going to happen to him now?” he asked quietly. He didn’t want to say that he felt bad for his father or worried about him but there was a natural curiosity that came from the care a child knew he should have for his father.

“I don’t really know.” Sam looked into his teacher’s eyes and saw sadness, confusion. Mr. Schue was as lost to this as he was. “She told me that she would be in touch very shortly, but to get you home and get you some rest. She’s right, Sam, you need to rest and not worry about it right now.”

He sat down on the couch and Mr. Schue joined him. The man offered him a hug and Sam leaned into it. Hugging was so nice. Sam really liked to just hug people. Dads should hug their sons, a lot. Mr. Schuester would have made a fantastic father. He would be such a good dad. Sam wished that he could have been his kid, even though he would have had to have kids way young to be able to father Sam. He should be someone’s father. Maybe he would someday right? Of course, he had been through enough to never want to be a dad.

Sam’s brain kept rambling on. He leaned against his teacher's shoulder and closed his eyes. "You'd make such a good dad," he mumbled. "I'm sorry about your baby situation. Quinn filled me in a few months ago and it just floored me. I can’t believe that anyone would ever try to hurt you, even if your ex-wife was really sick. You really are everything that a father should be."

The man's arms tightened around him. "I just try my best Sam," he said softly. "I do what I feel is right."

Sam nodded slowly. "That's enough," he said. "People don't realize it but just doing the right thing and trying is enough."

They were both quiet for a long time before Sam spoke up again. "Were your parents good people?" He figured that Mr. Schuester had to have fantastic parents, if parenting was genetic or something. Then again, Sam really wanted to have kids someday but if he found out that being a good father was genetic, he would never, ever have kids. He was not going to hurt his child the way that his father had broken him down. He was simply not that man.

“Um, that’s a difficult question Sam,” he said. “I care about my parents and they are good people, in their own way, but honestly, we don’t talk much anymore. They’re both alcoholics to their own degree and are…not the most available people in any right.”

Sam swallowed. Okay, so maybe there wasn’t anything genetic involved. “No genetics,” he mumbled.

“What?” Mr. Schue asked.

“Nothing,” he said quietly.

Mr. Schuester looked over towards the digital clock on top of the television. It read 2:04 already. “Sam, you don’t have to go to school tomorrow,” he said, seriously. “I’ll excuse you with Figgins and we’ll get this whole mess figured out, I promise.”

Sam looked at the clock and then back to the man and nodded. “’kay.”

“You need to rest.”

Sam nodded, taking the blanket off of the end of the sofa and laying down on the couch.

Mr. Schuester shook his head. “No, no Sam, take the bed down the hall, okay?” he said.

“No way, I’m not taking your bed.”

“You have no choice.”

Sam shook his head, smiled, but went down the hall. “If you say so,” he mumbled, accepting the fact that for a night, he was cared about.

Sam curled up in Mr. Schuester’s big bed in the clothes he was wearing, just taking off his shoes. He fell asleep fast, incredibly fast, but he was sure that was the pain medication’s doing, not his own. He drifted off.

When Sam woke up, he was confused. He was in a strange house and alone. It took several moments of wiping his eyes for Sam to realize that he was in Mr. Schuester’s apartment. Slowly, the entire night came back to him and he felt a little bit sick to his stomach. His father had hurt him again and this time he had called for help. This time, he had relied on someone else’s judgment, instead of his own.

He got up and walked into the front room. On the coffee table, he found his medication with a note attached. He picked up the yellow piece of paper off of the pill bottles and focused his eyes to read.

Sam,

Went to work.

Take two of these as soon as you wake up. There’s food in the fridge. I want you to spend today getting as much rest as possible. Don’t use the oven or the shower till I get home, but most of all, just take it easy.

I’m gonna try to leave early.

Sam quickly folded up Mr. Schuester’s note and stuck it in his back pocket, smiling to himself. He took two of the pills and went to find some water. When he found a bottle in the refrigerator, he grabbed it and swallowed down the two pills. His stomach growled and he hurt. He knew that he needed to eat or else these pills were going to make him puke.

He opened up the cabinet next to the refrigerator and pulled out a box of cereal. He set it down and grabbed some milk, making a bowl of cereal and a cup of juice. He felt so unbelievably hungry it was ridiculous. He sat down to eat, running a hand through his hair, which had been ridiculously messed up by his sleep. He ate quickly, not even thinking about his body for once, something that was comforting.

While he ate, Sam could not help think about his father. Would he go to jail? Aside from the extensive injuries and Sam’s word, would there be a way to prove that his father was an abuser? Sam wasn’t sure. Part of him hoped that his father could be put away for life but part of him did not have that much faith. His father had never been taken down even though he had been using Sam as a personal punching bag for years. The man had to be a little more resourceful then he appeared.

Swallowing a large gulp of juice, Sam wondered what would happen to him. He was still a minor and he needed a parent. Even if his father went to jail and never touched him again, who would take him in? He had no family members who were willing to be his guardian. He didn’t want to get tossed into the system again. What would become of him?

He imagined not going home again and it didn’t compute, at all.

He finished his cereal, washing his dishes out then setting them down. He didn’t know what to do next.

Sam began to wander around the apartment, stopping when he was back in his teacher’s bedroom. He did not want to snoop, because he knew it was rude, but he couldn’t help notice a couple of pictures on the man’s desk. He picked the first one up: It was a picture of Mr. Schuester and a woman who was undoubtedly his ex-wife. He had heard stories about her from the other kids in glee, but she didn’t look like a “raging psychopath in this photo.” Still, Sam could not help the rage that boiled inside of him just looking at her. He knew that the beautiful woman in the photograph had hurt her husband in such a horrible, unforgivable way.

How could anyone hurt him? It didn’t make sense. Good people should not have to worry about bad people hurting them.

He sighed and set it back down, picking up the only other photograph. It was of the group, of New Directions, but not of the group that Sam knew. This photograph had been taken some time last year.

His eyes instantly drew to the boy that he had never met. Sam recalled Mike mentioning him once before. His name was Matt and he was a very quiet member of the group, before he had transferred during the summer. He looked like a nice kid, but you couldn’t form an opinion on someone just by looking at their picture.

It all looked so different. Quinn was heavily pregnant in the photograph, something that he stared at with confusion. He had cared about her so deeply but he would never be witness to such a thing, not in person. She looked happy; at least, she appeared to be more contented then she looked today. She looked like herself, Sam decided.

She had her arm around Mercedes and was leaning into her side. Where did that friendship come, or rather, where did it go? It seemed to be good for both girls.

He looked at Kurt. Kurt had been driven out of McKinley by their failure to protect one of their own. Sam had never really realized how haunted his eyes looked, but even last year there was just some kind of sadness there.

Sam glanced back to the mysterious Matt. Mike looked happier hanging out with Matt. It was funny that they were best friends, though, because Mike had only mentioned Matt in front of Sam once. Nobody else had ever really mentioned him. A year in New Directions and he was so replaceable. Was Sam as easily replaced? If he had to leave or something would they just forget that he had ever been a part of them?

He recognized a few more things: Artie and Tina were extremely close, a couple, Puck was looking at Quinn with an unbelievable amount of sadness in his usually hardened eyes and Finn and Rachel were on opposite ends, upset and not the centers of attention he was used to.

Sam set the photo down and returned to the front room to lie on the sofa. He flicked on the tv, hoping it would work as a distraction. He was starting to get dizzy. It was probably the meds. He shut his eyes.


	6. Dreams

Nightmares weren’t uncommon for Sam.

He woke up panting, without the actual scenario of the dream left over in his head but a horrible feeling that his father was going to kill him. He woke up and looked around, to find himself lying on an unfamiliar sofa with the light of a television reflecting on his face. His heart raced and his blood pushed through his veins at a rapid rate. He shot up and his hand hit a person’s leg. He screamed out loud when he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Sam, please,” Mr. Schuester said, his voice calm and even. “Sam, wake up, look at me. You’re here, at my apartment. I left school early so that I could be here with you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping a hand over his sweat soaked forehead and separating the dream from reality as the previous night’s events came back to him. “I was dreaming about my dad. I thought he was killing me for a second.” He didn’t realize how bad that sounded at first, but then winced. He had spoken about it as though it was such a common nightmare. It was, but that was humiliating.

To his surprise, the man leaned over and hugged him. He hugged back, holding on as tightly as he possibly could for a second before letting go.

Sam blinked a little and looked at the coffee table. His homework was lying on top of it in a neat stack. “I brought you everything you need for homework,” Mr. Schuester explained when his eyes landed on it.

“Thank you,” Sam mumbled. “Um, did anyone ask about my not being there?”

He knew that it was only one day and people were absent from school all of the time, but still he felt like he had to ask if anyone noticed he wasn’t around.

“Of course, you were really missed.”

He was lying. Sam knew he was lying.

“Um,” he muttered, leaning back against the couch and trying to think of something to say. “I saw a picture in your room of…of the group, last year. It was really cool. How were things here last year?”

The man paused for a minute at that oddly phrased question. “It was a good year,” he said. “We really had to build a lot of fresh bonds to become the family that we are today.”

“Um, how come nobody ever really talks about Matt, except for like Mike, once?” he asked. “I mean, unless it’s like a sensitive topic or something. The way that nobody talks about him you’d think that he was never a part of the group or anything.”

Sam watched Mr. Schue’s eyes carefully. He didn’t understand the emotion going through them.

“I hope I’m not that replaceable,” he said.

“Sam, Matt wasn’t…you’re not replaceable,” Mr. Schuester responded.

“Alright,” Sam mumbled, picking up his homework. “Woah, there’s a lot of this stuff. I should get working on it or something. I don’t want to bug you or anything.”

“You don’t bother me or anything,” he responded seriously. “I’m gonna go order something for dinner. Call me if you’re having any trouble or need any help okay? I’ll be right back.”

Sam struggled over his homework for a few minutes while his teacher went to order them some food. He always hated doing homework, especially subjects like English and History. He was pretty good at numbers, so Math wasn’t a problem, but still everything else was confusing. He was just so stupid. He was an idiot.

He read the paragraph at the top of the worksheet Mr. Schue had retrieved for him from English. He read it again. God, he was slow.

“Need some help?”

He didn’t look up for a minute when Mr. Schuester sat down next to him because he needed to absolutely focus in order to understand what was being said.

“Yeah I guess,” he mumbled, not sure what to do with that offer. He finally looked up. “I take about a million years reading things though.”

“It’s alright. I used to be really slow at reading stuff too and I imagine having issues with dyslexia make it even harder. You’re really a smart kid Sam. What’s the first part asking?”

“Something about strategies,” he mumbled.

Though it made him feel extremely insecure, Sam liked having someone with him, helping him work his way through his homework. Mr. Schue was really smart and when he said things, they just seemed so much clearer then the vague instructions left by his other teachers.

Time went by very fast while they worked through the entirety of his English worksheet. There was a knock at the door when the pizza arrived.

Sam moved his stuff out of the way while his teacher paid for the food he’d ordered. Sam smiled. “Thanks for helping me with that,” he said shyly. “It makes a lot more sense now. I wish that Mrs. Franklin was as good as you are at slowing things down and explaining them.”

“She’s pretty…set in her ways.”

“Which is your polite way of saying ancient,” Sam said, cracking a small smile. His teacher grabbed some paper plates and Sam gratefully took a slice of pizza, starving. It was nice, he didn’t even think of his dieting, except for a split second.

Everything was so comfortable here.

“Want me to put on a movie?”

“Sure.”

The rest of the night was spent comfortably and all too quickly. They finished eating while they watched Star Trek. Sam could not keep the stupid smile off of his face. Sam enjoyed hanging around with someone who could be as dorky as him. He had no idea that Mr. Schue was a bit of a sci-fi nerd too. It was awesome!

After the movie, Mr. Schue helped him finish his homework. It was possibly the first night that his homework took him less than a couple of hours.

It was like a dream. This time a good dream.


	7. Another day at school.

Sam was trying his best to give up his desperate need to fit in at school. It was stupid and it wasn’t worth the time he had spent on it. He knew very well that he was never going to impress his father and it needed to stop here. Still, Sam was absolutely terrified when he walked into school that morning. He did not think that he was missed at all, but at the same time arriving at school with his teacher had definitely caused a buzz.

 

He ignored all of the talking and the questions, including what he thought was an attempt by Jacob to _interview_ him.

 

Only one person who cared asked what had happened to him though and she was not someone he was in the mood to talk about.

 

“Are you okay?” Quinn asked him, pulling him aside by the arm. “You weren’t in school yesterday and then Mr. Schuester left early. Now you come to school with him in his car and I have to think something’s wrong.”

 

“There are issues at home,” he said vaguely, tensely, not wanting to see the sympathy in her beautiful, beautiful eyes. He cannot handle Quinn, not right now.

 

“I still care for you Sam, so much,” she responded seriously. “You can talk to me.”

 

“I’m dealing with too much to handle that care,” he said, carefully pivoting around on one foot and walking off.

 

He did not want to abandon Quinn in the middle of the hallway, but she had already done the damage when she had kissed Finn. He had to admit that at first he had some less-than-noble intentions when it came to being involved with the head cheerleader, but he had slowly grown to love her and he had thought she felt the same. He could not deal with the lingering feelings for her that he still had while he was trying to figure his father out.

 

Focusing at school that day was absolutely hell. He was never a very attentive student, but his thoughts kept returning to his future and how much he had to lose. He also was in a considerable amount of pain and really wanted the school day to end so that he could go to Mr. Schue and get his pills. The man had been particularly kind and had not informed the nurse that he was taking medications, so that he only had to go through one adult for now.

 

Mr. Schue was good at a lot of things.

 

At lunch, as he walked out of the classroom and was going to attempt to find his teacher because oh god, he hurt, Mr. Schue found him instead. “Sam,” he said softly, nodding towards his empty Spanish room. Sam followed him inside.

“What is it?” he asked.

 

“Your father was arrested,” he said, eying the door to make sure that no other students were watching or listening. The door was locked but Sam still felt a surge of comfort over the fact that his teacher was guarding his privacy.

 

“What does that mean for me?” he asked. He had expected that his father was going to be arrested. After all, he had come to a hospital with broken ribs and numerous bruises and told the cops it was his father. He had that much faith in the legal system.

 

“Your father is going to be officially charged with child abuse and you will have to testify officially,” he said, gently. “There is the proof that we left with the hospital of course, but there is limited proof to how extensive the abuse was and how long it’s been going on.”

 

Sam swallowed, suddenly fearful. He had more faith in the legal system and laws then that, but for a moment he was afraid that he could somehow end up back with his father. The treatment the man had given him would seem like child’s play if he could get his hands on Sam knowing that Sam had told.

 

Obviously, the other man sensed what he was thinking and shook his head. “Sam, I’m not gonna let you end up back in your father’s custody. You’re a strong minded, well rounded young man and your testimony, along with the evidence at the hospital will be enough. I know that laws are fuzzy sometimes but I trust that you’ll be safe.”

  
Sam bit his lip to keep himself from crying. He felt stupid. He should have been documenting it for years, the bruises and “mysterious injuries.”

 

“My-my old school was suspicious,” he whispered. “If we need more proof. It’s why we moved here you know? To make the suspicions stop, to make people stop wondering…”

 

“Don’t worry about proof or anything like that right now Sam. I just wanted to let you know that your father is currently in police custody and you’re safe. We have a meeting with a lawyer this weekend and we’re going to sort everything out, make sure he’s put away for abuse and that you’re safe.”

 

Sam had to wonder why his teacher cared so much about him, honestly. He didn’t mean anything to his father and he wasn’t even important enough for his girlfriend to stay with him. He didn’t have a track record of meaning anything to anyone and yet for some reason, this guy cared. It was hard to comprehend. “Are we having rehearsal today?” he asked, trying to think of anything but how he was feeling inside and out. “Also, I really, really need my meds but I’m afraid they’re gonna make me conk out.”

 

“I was planning on canceling,” he said honestly.

  
“Don’t cancel it,” Sam said quickly. “I know it’s weird but I really just want to go to rehearsal today.”

  
“What about the meds?”

 

Sam winced. “I really want to take them,” he said. “It’s been more than six hours and I feel like there’s a tow truck running over my chest at the moment.”

 

The man threw him the bottle of pills. Sam caught them. “Why don’t you take two and then lay down in Miss Pillsbury-Howell’s office?” he said. “I told Emma a vague, slightly watered down version of what happened, so you know, Sam. I had to because of the police involvement and the affect this might have on you this year. She’s more than trustworthy.”

 

He raised a hand. “Don’t freak. She’s a cool counselor and all. I…yeah I’ll go lay down. I wanna be good for glee today.”

 

He quickly took his pills and headed down to the guidance counselor’s office, not wanting to worry his teacher in any way. He could see the concern in his eyes as he walked off towards the office but he was not sure how to deal with it.

 

Emma’s office was very small, but nice. The guidance counselor looked up at him with big eyes. “Sam, hi,” she said, squeaking it out. Obviously, whatever watered version of his story Mr. Schuester had shared with her, it was enough to have her break out with concern immediately upon his arrival. “Sam, how are you?”

 

He smiled awkwardly. “I’m uh, I’m cool,” he said. “I’m in a lot of pain though and Mr. Schue said that I could come lay down, now that I’ve took my pills. They kind of knock me off my feet.”

 

“Oh sure,” she said. “I have new chairs in here that kind of lay back; you should be able to rest for a bit.”

  
“Very therapist,” he said, glancing over at the chairs. “Thank you. “


	8. Too much drama.

Sam woke up with his face plastered sideways onto Emma’s chair. Oh god, he was a drooling mess. He ran a hand through his hair and yawned. He got up, wincing as the muscles in his back stretched, making an unpleasant sound. His chest still hurt but the medicine had not entirely worn off yet. He rubbed his eyes then remembered that he was still bruised from the encounter with his father. That had been a bad idea. His eyes teared up.

Emma turned her head and looked to him.

“Sam, hi, you’re up,” she said.

“What time is it?” he asked, stretching some more and looking around for a clock.

“Just after two,” she said, looking at the computer screen in the corner of the room. “How are you feeling?”

He winced a little.

“Groggy and exhausted,” he admitted, chuckling, “but I’m much better. Thank you for letting me lay here for a little bit.”

“It’s no problem Sam,” she said, gently. When he met her eyes, Sam saw that she was very concerned for him. That was really nice, actually. “Sam, if you need me to do anything for you, anything at all, know that you can come to me. If you need to talk, or vent or even just hide somewhere, you can come here, okay?”

“Thank you for being so nice,” he mumbled, still running a hand through his hair. “I’ve got Mr. Schue right now and he’s sorting so much out but I’ll remember that. I promise.”

She nodded and Sam went to the bathroom near her office to clean up. He looked like a hot mess and everyone was going to notice but there was nothing he could do about that. He gently splashed some water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. He brushed his hair back to its normal position and then headed over toward the choir room.

School had not quite ended yet, so he took his seat early and just relaxed for a few minutes, sorting his head and thoughts out. In no time at all the bell rang and people started to slowly filter into the room.

People asked how he was, surprisingly.

“Sam, are you okay?” Tina asked, looking him over with a kind of confused skepticism, like she knew things were worse than he would let on.

“Oh yeah, I’m great.”

“Dude, what’s been happening?” Puck asked, crossing his arms and looking Sam over. “There are a lot of rumors floating around the school.”

“Nothing’s happening.”

Sam liked the fact that the other members of the club were concerned but part of him had to wonder if it was false. It was hard for him not to doubt people’s emotions and how genuine they were, especially when all of the kids who asked how he was took his half-assed excuse at face value.

Santana wrapped her arms around him and leaned into his shoulder. “I missed you Sam,” she said. “Could you please tell me next time you’re gonna take off and disappear?”

“I had stuff going on.”

“What kind of stuff?” she asked, slipping her hand along his skin.

“Don’t touch,” he said, hissing a little bit. “I’m hurt, I…I can’t…”

“I want some answers boy,” she said.

“Back off Santana,” he said harshly. “I’m going through some stuff right now and I need a break from all of this, from us. I can’t deal with us right now, alright? Can you handle that?”

The girl looked incredibly put off, staring at Sam like she could not believe he dared cross her. She crossed her arms and stood with one leg a little bit closer to him, leaning forward and trying to look intimidating. He knew intimidation and his girlfriend just looked stupid. “You’ll regret that, big-lipped wonder. I gave you back your credit after Queen Fabray dumped you.”

“You’ll regret that, really?” Sam asked. “I’ve heard that before.”

He went to a further seat, away from the girl. Thankfully, Mr. Schuester arrived a moment later.

It was a rather unspectacular rehearsal, considering that neither Sam nor his teacher was prepared to run a rehearsal. They were focusing mainly on where they were lacking in choreography as well, which was hard for Sam because he was sore and in pain. By the end of rehearsal he was wondering why he hadn’t let Mr. Schuester cancel it.

He ended rehearsal sitting on the piano bench, in pain, sullen and grouchy, while waiting for Rachel to stop talking the teacher’s ear off.

Finally, the girl left and they were alone.

“Ready to go, Sam?”

He nodded and quickly got up. He shuffled his way along until he was safe in Mr. Schue’s old car.

“What happened today, Sam, with you and Santana?” Mr. Schue asked, immediately, making him groan. That was the last thing that he really wanted to talk about. “Things seemed really tense between the two of you today. Was she upsetting you or hurting you any?”

Sam shook his head, slowly. “I just…I don’t care about her, Mr. Schue,” he said, finding it way too easy to say those words to the man. “I mean, I…Santana is smart and she doesn’t give herself credit and she has a lot of issues I think, but I don’t care about her like a boyfriend should care about his girlfriend. I know she has her own troubles but she’s an abrasive bitch and I…I hardly like her, sorry.”

Mr. Schue waved off his apologies.

“How did you two become involved so fast?” he asked. “You were with Quinn and that changed so fast I felt my head spin.”

Sam sighed.

“I was with Quinn and I honestly was falling in love with her,” he said. “I trusted her and then she kissed Finn and lied to me about it. I just…I don’t trust people well. I hardly trust myself and Quinn just turned on me. I don’t…I don’t want her to know she hurt me so bad but she did.”

Everything hurt and Sam didn’t know what to do.

“Girls can definitely break your heart Sam,” Mr. Schuester said, as they drove closer and closer to the apartment and a place where Sam could rest. “I think taking a break from the girls right now is a very good idea. You can figure out where you stand with them once everything else in your life is sorted out.”

“When is that gonna happen?” he asked, a tiny grin on his face. He wasn’t happy, but god, his life was such a joke he wanted to laugh.


	9. A shift.

"If he was lucky enough to be your biological son then, well, he would have been a lot more blessed than he was with his father," she said gently. "You're a great man, Will and Sam looks at you with eyes reserved for a father already. He never had a true father until you stepped up and began to take care of him. He needs you."

"I care for him," Will admitted quietly. "I want him to have a safe, loving home. The social worker on Sam's case as well as the officer investigating his father have both told me that Sam has no relatives who will seek custody. I didn’t even tell Sam that because his father hasn’t been tried yet but this is scary. Sam will be going to a foster home if nobody seeks at least temporary guardianship."

"Do it, Will. Get that bastard put away for child abuse and then you and Sam can start to rebuild your lives.”

“My God Emma, you’re a lifesaver sometimes, you know that?”

“I know,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry I bothered you Emma. I just didn’t know who else to call. I was getting a little overwhelmed looking at all this stuff.”

“It’s no problem, Will,” she responded. “Take care, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

Will hung up the phone.

“Do you really want to…be my guardian or whatever?”

Sam was standing in the hallway, arms wrapped around himself. He looked tired and a little bit pained. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” he added quickly. “I couldn’t sleep and then I heard you talking and…that is what you were talking about, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it was what I was talking about.”

“Do you really want to?” Sam asked. The earnest, desperate look in his eyes choked Will up. He was trying so hard to get information out of his teacher but at the same time was trying not to look like he needed it. He was trying to look as though he was not craving the answers from Will, but he so obviously was.

“I know it’s not ideal, Sam,” he said. “I know it’s a painful situation but I really want to do this for you.”

“Why?”

The question led him to sit down on the sofa and pat it for Sam to join him. “I care about you,” he said. “I care about you and I want you to have all of the opportunities you deserve that life denied you. You mean a lot to me Sam and I think that it’s wrong, all you’ve been forced to deal with. You’re a good kid and I know that I’m not the best option for you but at the same time I want to be there for you. I want you to know things that you don’t, because you were never allowed by that man. I also want to kill that man, but that’s beside the point. I can’t make him realize his wrongs but I can do my best to correct what he did wrong, right?”

“I never wanted anything as bad as I want that,” Sam mumbled, almost too low for Will to hear. He heard the next part of what he said, though. “I just want this all to be alright. I want to feel like I do when you help me all the time, Mr. Schue. I want to stop feeling like I’m a mess and I don’t deserve anything.”

Will leaned forward and hugged Sam. Sam practically collapsed in his arms and the strong, affectionate hug. “You deserve a lot more than I can give you, but I promise I’m gonna help you find what you need Sam. I’m going to do all I can.”


	10. Apologies and rumors

Courtroom drama, his father’s arrest and trial and Sam was trying his hardest to focus on American History. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. It wasn’t fair that school couldn’t take a break while he dealt with all of the stuff he was going through. Everything kept moving at a normal rate while Sam was trailing behind, desperately trying to reach the spot where everyone else was at.

Finally, mercifully, the bell rang and Sam walked out of the classroom.

He was met with a blueberry slushie in the face.

“Homo!”

Sam winced and shut his eyes instantly. It had been a couple of weeks since he last received a slushie to the face. It seemed out of place and had no reason. Glee had been out of the spotlight while they were getting ready for Regionals and Nationals and everything and Sam had been staying out of everyone’s way.

He found out about the rumors, the reason why his bullying had begun to pick up, from Puck.

“Dude, everyone’s talking about you,” he said quietly. “Everyone keeps saying that you broke up with Santana ‘cause you and Schuester are fucking.”

“What the hell?” Sam yelled, eyes going wide. “Why would people be saying that?” Even as he asked Puck, he knew exactly why people were saying that. His heart dropped down into his feet. He could not believe her. He was going to kill her. He was going to mutilate her. She had absolutely no idea what she had done.

“You broke up with Santana Lopez, dude,” he said, looking at Sam with complete sympathy. “You broke up with the most vindictive bitch in school, who just so you know, was just knocked flat on her ass in attempts to woo Brittany and you’ve been seen comin’ to school with Schue a couple of times. What else was going to happen?”

Puck’s face softened a little and he mumbled, “What’s going on dude?”

“I’m…I gotta find Santana man,” he said, brushing past him.

His chest hurt and his heart full of liquid fire. He felt like he was going to throw up. He probably was going to throw up if he didn’t do something about these stupid rumors. He was trying to tell himself that they were just rumors and stupid ones at that and he stopped caring about rumors and his image. Still, it wasn’t just his image being hurt by this. It was hurting the only person who cared about him when he fell harder than ever. He was going to take Santana down for this. He had to do something, even if he was a nonviolent person, but what the hell could he do? He didn’t know but he had to do something because he found the girl he was looking for quickly.

She was lounging against the lockers, talking to one of the Cheerios. When she looked up at him, she had venom in her eyes. She dismissed the other girl and turned her sights on Sam. “Hi blondie,” she said, crossing her arms and looking him up and down. “Having a good day?”

“Why did you do it, Santana?” he asked, softly. He didn’t want to seem vulnerable in front of her but he could not help the tone of his voice. He had come out with guns aimed for her, but now he was absolutely terrified and ready to break.

“What are you talking about Sam?” she asked, deliberately playing dumb.

“I know that you started the whole rumor,” he said. “The thing about Mr. Schuester and I…being something totally gross and inappropriate. Do you have any idea how sick saying something like that is?”

“You shouldn’t have messed with me honey,” she said, her voice sugar sweet. “I told you that you’d regret it.”

“My dad beat the shit out me Santana!” he yelled. His words turned heads but Sam could not care less, because all that mattered was letting Santana Lopez know the damage that she had done.

“He beat the shit out of me and Mr. Schue saved my life. I can’t deal with you and your stupid drama because my life has become one massive pile of drama. I’m trying to make sure that I don’t wind up in that place ever again and that my father is put away for abuse. He’s got a pretty good lawyer and Mr. Schue and I are struggling. I’m trying my best to make sure that I take care of myself for once in my goddamned life.”

He walked off, leaving her stunned. He could not face her or else he would hit her and unlike his father he would never lay a hand on someone.

“How’s the pedo, Evans?”

Sam inhaled and turned around, finding himself face to face with Dave Karofsky. He shoved the boy backwards. “Fuck off Karofsky,” he said.

Santana had spread that rumor to all ends of the school, hadn’t she?

“More like fucking you, Evans, cause we all know what’s goin’ down.”

Sam growled and ran off.

He went to the only place that felt safe and when he didn’t find Mr. Schue in his classroom, he went straight to Miss Pillsbury’s office. She was sort of an extension of the man who meant so much to him in his mind. They were like the same person, branches of the same tree or something more poetic that Sam could not come up with.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” asked the woman, standing up immediately when she saw the look on his face. Sam shook his head and tried so hard to speak.

“There are rumors…”

His stomach was turning. He felt as though he could easily throw up. He pressed a hand to his stomach to try and steady it. “I don’t know why I’m so freaked out but, but, Santana spread a rumor around school about me and Mr. Schue, that something gross was happening between us because he’s taken me in and I can’t deal with it. I-I-I can’t deal with it.” Sam hyperventilated, pulling air into his lungs as deeply as he could. He knew he was panicking, his mind shutting down but he couldn’t stop it from happening.

“Wait, gross like…”

“Like dirty,” Sam spat out, sinking to the floor. His head was spinning and he was pretty sure he was going to collapse. “I dunno why it’s making me so sick but they can’t make what Mr. Schue and I have dirty. It’s sick and they can’t…”

“Sam,” the woman said, kneeling down at his side. “Sam, they’re just rumors alright? I’m going to page Will on the intercom, get him here as quickly as possible. Will that help you feel better?”

Sam nodded.

“He saved my life,” he ranted out loud to nobody, considering that Emma was busy getting his beloved teacher to come and yet again save him. “Eventually, Dad woulda killed me. He woulda completely destroyed me. He woulda killed me, I’m sure that he would have killed me. I just don’t know…”

“Will Schuester please come to the guidance counselor’s office immediately.”

Mrs. Pillsbury had returned to his side but Sam could not stop talking out loud. “I don’t know why she’d do that to me, even if she didn’t know. Who thinks it’s cool to make a teacher seem like a pedophile? I don’t understand her – why is she such a bitch, why?”

“I don’t know Sam,” the woman said softly. He could tell that she was looking around hysterically, trying to see if anyone was coming.

“Sam, Emma, what’s going on?”

He knelt down at Sam’s side and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “Sam, you’re shaking, what’s going on?”

Sam opened his mouth to explain to Mr. Schuester what happened but found that his mouth was dry and he just couldn’t do it. Luckily, the counselor did her best to explain to him on Sam’s behalf. “Will, Sam came in hysterical and told me that Santana started a rumor about you being a…erm, a pedophile and with him in an incredibly disgusting way.”

“This true Sam?” he asked softly.

Sam nodded.

“Just breathe for me, alright Sam?” he said, looking into his eyes.

Sam nodded again.

“I…I just…I’m tired Mr. Schue. I’m tired.”

“I know Sam,” he soothed. “You’ve been going through a lot of stuff lately.”

“I just can’t believe she’d…”

“I’ll make sure that whoever did this gets punished for it,” he promised. “I don’t like my reputation being torn apart any more than you do. It’s not right and I know that it’s the last thing you need right now.”

He leaned against his teacher and sighed. He realized how bad this would look with the rumors flying but he did not care. He had never felt like this before, like his lungs were going to collapse on him shortly before the walls closed in. He closed his eyes and didn’t open them again until he heard a voice.

“Sam, I am so, so goddamned sorry.”


	11. Family.

Santana stood in the doorway, looking as though she had become an entirely different person in a matter of seconds.

“Sam, I had no idea,” she whispered softly. She looked terrified. She looked around, nervously and then seemed to register Will and Emma and looked petrified. She had wronged Will far more than she had wronged Sam. Words like that could have possibly ruined the man’s life and if her eyes were any indication, she knew it. She began to slowly tear up, hands on her stomach. Sam could tell just how bad she felt but he couldn’t say anything to her. His mouth had suddenly closed up on him. “I am so sorry. I was just upset and Brittany…I felt hurt and I didn’t want to be betrayed again so I…I’m stupid, okay? I’m so stupid. I have never been so wrong or stupid in my whole life.”

“Now is not the time, Santana,” Will barked, a lot harsher than any of them were used to hearing him. “Sam is having a panic attack and does not need to deal with more of you. I will deal with you later. I will see you before rehearsal this afternoon. Right now, you need to leave us be here.”

Emma was quiet, but Sam could see her nod out of the corner of his eye.

The girl left. Sam was too freaked out to speak but he had to internally laugh a little. When it rose to the surface, it came out in the form of a choked sound. He had never seen Santana so scared and it was amazing that her fear came straight from the unimposing and often made fun of teacher. That was kind of overwhelming and brilliant. He slowly started breathing again, coming back down. It was very difficult to get his breathing going.

“I’m a little better…”

“Good, Sam,” he said. “Have you ever had a panic attack before?”

Sam nodded slowly as the memories came back to him. It was one of the worst things in the world and not something he was altogether unfamiliar with.

“A couple of times at home,” he said. “Dad didn’t care, obviously, so I usually just locked myself in my room until I could breathe again. I’ve never felt that sick before in my life, though, I felt like I was going to vomit or something. That was scary.”

“I had a lot of anxiety issues when I was a small child,” Emma told Sam, quietly. Will turned to look at her and she spoke, slowly, even though he could tell she was uncomfortable saying what she was saying. “It can be pretty overwhelming and it’s incredibly hard to explain to someone else what’s going through your head. After you guys sort out your legal issues, I would love to help you Sam. I know that I’m just a school counselor but I can make a lot of reference to low-cost psychology services. My own psychologist that I visit regularly is a very intelligent man who can…”

“I’d love that,” he said, smiling gratefully. He wasn’t sure he would love the idea of therapy but he loved the fact that she cared so much to suggest it to him. “Mr. Schue, I’m sure you have a class right now. You should go back. God knows what kind of chaos is going down. I’ll stay here for a bit and go back to class.”

“Are you sure Sam?”

He nodded. “I’ll see you in glee, that’ll be much better,” he promised.

Where his days usually dragged on painfully, Sam found that glee rehearsal came fast that day. He walked into the choir room and winced, as he could immediately feel the eyes on him. He didn’t like his friends looking at him like that. He had sort of freaked on Santana and told her what was going on, so he was assuming they all knew, the way that news traveled around McKinley like wildfire.

Nobody said anything though, at first. It surprised him that Mike was the first one to approach, considering that the guy was kind of painfully quiet at times, but they had become good friends over the last couple of weeks and it was so nice to hear it from him, rather than someone else who had the potential to be insensitive.

“Sam,” he mumbled quietly. “If you need anything at all, just let me know okay? My parents are kind of weird and Mom is over the top about things being Asian, but if you need to spend the night with someone else, relax a little bit, you’re more than welcome to come over.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled quietly. “You know those nasty rumors aren’t true, right?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah I know,” he said. “It’s pretty much going around the school that your dad hurt you as fast as it did that you and Mr. Schue were doing nasty stuff. It’s amazing the way that stuff travels around McKinley. Just, uh, know the offer stands if you need to get away from all the drama and stuff. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

He smiled, when he realized that Mike was totally genuine.

“Thank you Mike.”

Mr. Schuester was late and Sam knew very well that he was probably laying into Santana. He looked at the door and then turned around. Everyone seemed like they wanted to speak up in the way that Mike had.

“Evans,” Puck finally managed. “You know you got a bunch of friends on your side, okay?”

Finn nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said quickly. “I know things have been rough between us lately but we’re all here for you. This group is like a family, even those of us who have issues with each other. We wanna take care of each other and stuff.”

The girls ended up hugging and fussing over him. Sam’s face was so red by the time they finished that he barely looked up in time to hear Lauren quietly threatening to beat up his dad.

“Sounds like a good idea,” he said, smiling through his blushing. “If he ever gets out of jail I’ll call you up, okay?”

He looked down, feeling so embarrassed. “It’s hard guys, but Mr. Schue’s really the only thing keeping me hanging on right now. It’s all gonna be okay.”

In about fifteen minutes, Mr. Schuester returned, a docile, sullen Santana behind him. “I’m so sorry Sam,” the girl said softly, pulling Sam aside and away from the rest of their friends. She put her hand on his. “I know that I shouldn’t have said what I did, because I knew exactly what kind of power I had to spread rumors. I wanted to hurt you and it was stupid, because I didn’t think about who else would get hurt. I…I really, really don’t want you to hurt anymore than you already have.”

“It hurt Santana,” he said, not ready to forgive her for what she had done. “It hurt that you would do that to me, but it hurt even more than you would hurt him. Do you know how important he is to me? Do you even have an idea what he did for me?”

“I know now, Sam.”

“After you already spread a damaging rumor that could mess with his life,” he said. “He’s trying to get custody of me. He’s trying to keep me from being tossed into the system, as soon as my dad is put away for good. He’s keeping me from becoming some pathetic, lost, foster kid until I turn eighteen and am on my own. He’s my…my savior. I know it’s silly and overdramatic but he’s keeping me from losing my head, Santana.”

“I’m so sorry Sam.”

“Thank you,” he said, tensely. “I really want you to get help for your anger, or something. I just can’t believe you’d do that to me. I thought you cared about me.”

“Mr. Schuester is sending me to the guidance counselor,” she mumbled, looking down at the floor. “I just…I don’t know. I get angry Sam. I just got angry because having you meant a lot to me.”

“You didn’t really care about me, though,” Sam said clearly, knowing that it was true. “You used me because you wanted some status back and Quinn had dumped me, so you had a clean in.”

Santana nodded, slowly, not denying what he was saying. “I know,” she admitted softly. “I just, yeah, I’m sorry Sam.”

She escaped, not returning back to glee that afternoon. Sam on the other hand did return, having one of the best practices he’d had yet. His head was on more clearly than ever. It made him think back to that picture of New Directions. He belonged today.


	12. Rebuilt

The next day, Mr. Schuester had to stay after school for a big staff meeting.

Sam waited outside of the teacher’s lounge patiently. He was pretty happy. Things had been mended to a degree and even though the glee club had found out about his abusive father, they were supportive and he had never felt more like a member of the “glee family.” He was unable to be anything but satisfied with the way that things were going. He glanced down at his phone to check the time and wondered if he had time to do anything before the meeting ended.

“Hi Sam.”

He looked up, pretty surprised to see Quinn standing in front of him. She smiled at him, looking absolutely pretty, as always. He was starting to learn to forgive her for betraying him, but it was hard because of just how much he felt for her. He had to admit that maybe his intentions were less than noble when they began dating, but he had really learned to love her. Her betraying him for Finn, well that had just hurt.

“Hi Quinn,” he said softly.

“How are you doing?” she asked, gently.

“I’m doing well,” he said. “Mr. Schue’s in a meeting right now. I’m just waiting for him to get out of it so I can go home.”

“That’s great, what he’s doing for you,” she said. “I mean, I have always had a ton of respect for him, but this is a really wonderful thing he’s doing.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Sam said. “He is one of the most selfless people I know.”

She nodded a couple of times. “I think that people underestimate what a good guy he is,” she said, sitting down next to the lockers. He sat down next to her out of respect. “He has some weird, misguided moments and he sort of worships Rachel Berry like she’s a goddess, but he’s a good man who cares. You could never believe how good he was to me when I was pregnant and so scared.”

“He’s one of the best people I know,” he said. “He’s genuine and cares for people.”

They were quiet for a long moment, just sitting down next to each other and feeling so much, but saying so little. Quinn was the first one to speak after the silence. It was not something that Sam expected her to say. “Sam,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry for cheating on you.”

Sam blinked and turned his whole body around to face her. Where did that come from? Were they even talking about that?

“I was stupid,” she said quietly. “I tried to go back to something that was bad and destructive for me and enabling me to return to being the person I hated. I have been that person for weeks, months now, since Beth was born. I hate myself for it and I’m sorry I let you get hurt in the process. I guess that Santana’s not the only girl in your life who’s messed up and I just felt like I should apologize. I had no idea you were going through so much and I kind of made your life worse.”

“Quinn, I…” He stopped, because he had no idea what to say. Their breakup was over and done and while he still cared about her, he had a hard time understanding what she was saying and why she was saying it.

“I know this seems really out of place,” she said softly. “It’s the last thing you need to worry about right now, but I just wanted to let you know that you inspired me Sam. You inspired me to realize that a lot of my worries were so, so petty. I know you’ll never forgive me but I am sorry and I thank you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I do forgive you. We’re young and dumb. It happens.”

In that moment, Mr. Schuester walked out of the teacher’s lounge. “Hey Sam, Quinn,” he said. They both stood up and smiled at him politely. “Sam, you all ready to go?”

Sam looked to Quinn, nodded and smiled. “Yes, I’m ready to go,” he said. He leaned over and quickly hugged the girl. “As soon as I get out of this mess, we can talk more, okay?” he said gently, his genuine care for Quinn showing. “We’ll work this out.”

“Kay.”

They walked to the car.

“What was that all about, Sam?” the man asked.

He smiled brightly at his mentor, father and best friend. “Quinn and I made peace,” he said quietly. “She said that seeing all of the stuff I’m going through helped her learn that some of her struggles were kind of petty, or something. I’m…really happy we made peace, you know? I mean, I still care about her, a lot.”

This made the man smile.

“Quinn is a bright and strong young woman, but she does deal with a lot of negative influences around her. She could use a good influence like you in her life, Sam.”

Sam smiled some. He had a lot on his mind as they drove home. Everything was confusing and there was so much up in the air, but at least now he felt a little more certain about his future. Something that people like Quinn really needed to know was that the moment wasn’t forever. Things were always changing and they would always change.

When they arrived at the apartment, Sam finally spoke up as they walked to the front door. “What are your plans for the future, Mr. Schue?”

This seemed to take the man off guard and Sam felt a little badly for that, but he was genuinely curious. He wanted to know. “I really want to keep teaching,” Mr. Schuester finally said, as he opened the door, let Sam inside and then followed him into the apartment. “It’s my life’s passion. I love teaching and I love being able to coach the glee club. Right now, I’m not thinking too much on the future though. I’m really big on the here and now. I’ve always wanted to have a family and with you here, I really feel like I do.”

Sam was a little floored by that last bit and he was sure that it showed on his face.”Do you ever want to have kids of your own?” he asked. It was a little forward but the words kind of just slipped out of his mouth. “I mean, I know things really sucked with your ex, but you’d be like the world’s best father. You already kind of are to me and I’m not even your kid.”

He caught his teacher’s smile out of the corner of his eye as he put his stuff away.

“Hopefully,” he finally responded. “I haven’t found the right person yet, but I would love to.”

“I hope she does come along,” Sam mumbled. “I mean, you’re giving me so much. It’d be awesome if you could give that to a kid from the moment he or she is born.”

“I hope so Sam, I hope so,”


	13. The beginning of an end

When his father was officially charged with child abuse and endangerment, Sam didn’t understand why, but he broke down crying. Tears began to just pour down his face and he stood there, Mr. Schuester at his side, trying to figure out why he was crying so damned hard. He didn’t have a reason to be crying that way. This was good; this was a goddamned miracle.

It was likely that the man would get out of prison in three years time, but at least by then Sam would be an adult and capable of getting out of any situation that he fell into with his father. He was not afraid of the man anymore and seeing him actually being punished for what he had spent Sam’s life doing to him was wonderful but bittersweet at the same time. He stared directly into the man’s eyes as they sentenced him and could not help thinking: you deserved this, you bastard.

Sam knew that there was probably a part of him that had always hoped his father would recover. Every single time his father had promised it would end, Sam had believed him.

Quinn had told him once that he had a good heart and saw good in everyone and it was true. Sam had always seen the potential for good in his father, but he had run out of second chances to give the man. How many more second chances could he give the man before he broke? There would always be those questions nagging in the back of his mind: what if he hadn’t given his father enough second chances? What if there was a way that the man could recover from his disease and stop beating his child? What if there was a way for him to love Sam again?

Did Sam love his father? He probably always would, even though he officially never wanted to see him again as long as he lived. It was just natural for a kid to love their parents, as sad as that seemed. He’d love his dad forever but he was done.

Sam knew that he had to stop thinking that way. His father was in jail and Mr. Schuester was set to become his legal guardian. He could finally stop living his life without being afraid of the man in the next room. It would all be okay from there on out.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” he suddenly told the man standing next to him, because he was sure that he was terrifying anyone within a few feet of him. He was just standing in the lobby of the courtroom bawling his eyes out like a child. “This is really good, this is what I’ve always, always dreamed about. I’m free and he’s not going to hurt me anymore. I have no reason to be crying and it’s just…silly but I am.” He reached over and hugged the man, deciding that he needed to stop bawling and start taking action. “Thank you,” he mumbled softly. “For, well, just about everything. I think that things are going to go good from here on out, right?”

“I believe that Sam. I really believe that. I’m going to do my best to do what’s right by you.”

There was still a bit to settle before Mr. Schuester could take permanent custody but Sam had everything he owned back, he was going home and he never felt like he understood the meaning of the word home more.

“I know you will do right by me,” he said, sniffling. “You always did and I can never thank you enough. I’ll never be able to thank you for all of the things you did for me.”

“No Sam,” he said, putting his hand on Sam’s shoulder and rubbing it lightly. “That’s what parents do. I’m going to be the closest thing I can be to a parent for you.”

Sam hugged the man and then wiped his eyes. He could not handle the stupid tears that were coming. He was so tired of tears falling. “I’m wiped,” he said laughing softly. “I don’t know what we can do next.”

“Well, why don’t we just hang out?”

“Sounds great,” Sam said, following Mr. Schuester out to the car. He sat down in the car’s torn seat, undoing the stupid tie that he had been wearing. He took it off and laid it down at his feet. The car rumbled to life.

They went back to the apartment and changed into regular clothes, and then Mr. Schuester took Sam out to a local Lima café to get some food. He hadn’t even realized he was hungry until the smell of cooking caught him straight in the face and made his mouth water. He had been too nervous to eat that morning so now he was starved.

They were seated at a small booth at the corner of the restaurant.

“Hungry?” the man asked.

Sam nodded, opening up the menu. “I hadn’t even really thought about food. I was so nervous this morning that I thought I’d puke if I ate anything.”

“Same here.”

Sam looked up. The man was sort of his hero, but he was also very human. He liked that about him. Everyone was human and had nerves and fears and hopes and dreams. Sam was starting to learn that there was no need for perfection. Nobody was perfect but he was pretty sure he had one of the most awesome guys in the universe on his side.

“Can you believe that we’re going to New York later this year?” Sam asked, wanting the conversation to move away from the uncomfortable things they had experienced that day and into the hopes and dreams that they both had for their future. Sam enjoyed talking about the future. “I’ve never been to a big city, ever. Before we moved to Lima, I lived in another really small town.”

“I always lived in kind of small towns too. New York is fantastic. You guys are going to have the time of your lives there.”

“It’s all because of you,” Sam said, unable to stop the admiration for his teacher from dripping from his voice. It was kind of pathetic but he could not help himself. “It’s because of you. You really changed everything. I can’t believe that I almost gave up being a part of this because I was scared of a couple slushies to the face. So lame. This is worth more than anything that I have.”

“I’m glad you see it that way Sam.”

“I do,” he said, only pausing when the waitress took their order. He was definitely certain that things were looking up from here.


	14. Ideas.

In the beginning of the year, Sam would have felt uncomfortable sitting at a table with his glee friends, because people would make fun of them or say things, but now he couldn’t care less what people thought about him. These kids were his family and he had never felt more at home with a bunch of people. It had only been a couple of months earlier that he was panicking over not being a part of the group and now he had never felt more like a part of something.

“How are you doing Sam?” Quinn asked, looking at him from across the table, picking at her food and trying to act less interested then she was. Sam really could not deny that he still had feelings for Quinn and if her nervous interest in him was any indication, she did too. Maybe there was a chance for them to be together after this all blew over, but right now Sam was focusing on himself.

Sam realized that everyone slowly started looking their way. People were probably concerned, all that Sam and Mr. Schuester had been dealing with in the last couple of weeks. It made his heart warm up, just thinking that way. “I’m doing great,” he said. “I mean, there are a lot of changes and they’re hard to deal with, but I could not ask for more. My dad’s in jail and things living with Mr. Schue couldn’t be better.”

Finn looked over his way and mumbled a question. He and Finn had not been on the best terms since the whole incident with Quinn, but really the dude was one of his closest friends and the glee club member he got on with best, so he hoped they could repair their relationship. Finn smiled as he finally choked it out. “Do you have enough room over at his place?” he asked. “I remember that it was kind of small.”

Sam nodded quickly in response. “Oh definitely. His apartment has two bedrooms so I’m slowly turning the spare room into mine.”

Just as quietly as and even more uncomfortably than Quinn, Santana spoke up. He had not really spoken to her since her apology but he hoped that she was doing better. It looked like she was, if he was any good at judging things from the sidelines. “You safe there?”

“Safer than I’ve ever been in my life,” he said very seriously. Sam had never really known what it was to be safe and with Mr. Schuester and at his new home, he had never felt safer.

Brittany, who was sitting at Santana’s side, cautiously slipped a hand into the other girl’s and grinned at Sam with a fantastic smile. “You have a brighter light coming from you than usual, you know that?” she said. It didn’t exactly make sense but it made Sam smile and he understood just what Brittany was talking about.

“I gotta agree with you Britt,” he said. “I feel brighter than ever. I owe it all to Mr. Schue for saving my life.”

“That seems to really be a running theme,” Quinn said softly. “The man keeps saving us, changing us and doing good things for us. I hate to think about where a lot of us would be if not for Mr. Schuester. I’m sure you especially feel that way, Sam.”

Sam met her eyes and nodded. There was really nothing more to do than agree with her. No words had ever spoken more truthfully for him.

“We should really do something for him,” Puck said, coming up from behind Finn and giving them all one of his trademark smiles. He really seemed to be thinking about what he was saying. Sam realized that Mr. Schuester had also done a lot for Puck, especially since he came back from juvie. “After all, saving Evans is kind of just the tip of the iceberg of all the good things he’s done for us.”

“Why don’t we put on some kind of show?” Finn asked thoughtfully. “I think Rachel said once that they were called recitals or something. Last year when we thought that we were going to lose glee, we sang that song for him. It would be pretty nice to be able to just do what we do best to say thanks for keeping the family together or something. It would like…”

“It could showcase what everyone does best,” Quinn said, turning around and lighting up at Finn’s suggestion. “It would also be great practice for Nationals, because honestly, we don’t have as much practice singing in front of a group of people that we usually do. We could invite a lot of people, so that everyone knows what he’s done for us. It could be like a tribute, so that the other staff and members of the community realize how awesome he is.”

“Quinn, do you think that you could convince Figgins to give us the auditorium for a night?” Finn asked. “You usually have that kind of pull.”

Quinn nodded instantly. Sam loved the way that she looked when she took control of a situation. “Undoubtedly,” she said and he could see the plans going off behind her beautiful eyes.

Sam smiled as his friends chattered like crazy about their plans. It was really awesome to see them all working together like this. He wasn’t on the outside anymore, he was one of them. “Do you guys really think that we could do this and make it special? He really deserves it and it’s a cool idea…”

“I think we could do it,” Puck said, shaking his head. “Do you have any doubt Evans. Dude, this is us. We’re awesome like that.”

“No, I don’t have any doubt,” Sam admitted, unable to doubt his family and what they could do. “We just have to get to action to put this to work.”

They spent the rest of their lunch period and any free time two or more of them got together to sketch out ideas. Rachel would start looking up songs for a setlist and Quinn would help Sam find his personal song. Quinn and Finn would convince Figgins to let them have the auditorium for the night and Santana, Brittany, Tina and Puck would take care of getting everyone invited. It was going to be perfect.


	15. Tribute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I got really hung up on finding a song that fit Sam and Schue's relationship in this. Nothing fit for me so I'm leaving it open to interpretation. If I think of something really fitting it may be included in the cleaned up version.

The tension in the room was obvious. Sam was grinning like an idiot watching his fellow glee club members attempt in vain to suppress their smiles. Tina was clinging to Mike’s side and bouncing up and down, Brittany was giving Santana side-eyes and grinning, while Santana tried to calm Brittany down and keep her from revealing the secret too early. Finn, who had been very strained with Rachel in the past few weeks, had his arms around her like nothing had ever changed between the two of them. Everyone was happy waiting to tell Mr. Schuester where to go that evening.

Before Sam could open his mouth though, Mr. Schuester asked them what was going on. It was obvious by the way they were behaving that something was up. “Why is everyone smiling and why is everyone looking at me like that?” the teacher asked, turning and looking at each of his students and then he looked straight to Sam. Sam was unable to restrain himself any longer at that point.

“We have something planned tonight, Mr. Schuester,” Sam said clearly, unable to keep from beaming at the statement. “We need you to be at the auditorium at eight ‘o clock tonight. Will that work for you?”

Mr. Schuester looked confused, tilting his head to the side. “What’s going on Sam? I guess that’d be fine but I was planning on going home before eight tonight. What’s going on?”

“That’s for us to know and you to find out,” Puck quipped, coming up from behind Sam. “It’s a surprise, Mr. Schue, don’t you know how those work?”

“Maybe they didn’t have surprises in his day,” Brittany said, dead serious. That sent all of the kids into an excited laughter. Mr. Schue couldn’t help laugh too. He still looked completely confused though, which completely satisfied Sam.

“They in fact did, Brittany. I’ll…uh be there,” he said.

“You just need to be at the auditorium at eight o’clock and we’ll tell you then,” Sam said quickly. “Er, if it’s okay for me to stay after school.” He smiled.

“Of course it is.”

The rest of glee was spent pestering them to get the secret out of them. Nobody, not even Brittany, caved. Sam was excited to dart out of rehearsal and get on with the planning. “Remember, you are not allowed to come near the auditorium until seven thirty. You have to stay out of that area or you’ll ruin the surprise.”

“I got you guys the first thirty times Sam.”

“Just making sure.”

Sam then rushed to help the rest of the group set up. It was pretty simple, just making sure that the band members were familiar with the numbers, setting up the seats for the parents and friends who had agreed to come.

Sam helped Rachel hang some banners, when Quinn approached him. “Are you ready for tonight?” she asked sweetly.

“I am,” he said. “I’m a little nervous but I want the whole world to know what a father figure he has become for me and I…yeah I’m ready.”

She smiled a brilliant smile at that. “I’m excited for you Sam.”

It was Finn’s mother who helped them get Mr. Schue in the auditorium when the time came. She proudly sat the man down front and center. There were only a small amount of guests but the other glee club members had invited their parents and friends. He noticed Kurt sitting with Finn’s mom and his own father, looking a little bit on the awkward side. He hoped this went off without a hitch because Mr. Schuester deserved it.

Sam chuckled when he saw the man start asking everyone around him what was going on. It was so adorable. The AV people that Lauren convinced to help them out brought down the lights and that was his cue. Sam was never bad at speaking out in public, but it was weird to have to do this. He stepped in front of the crowd. Okay, the spotlight was a bit of overkill. Sam winced at the lights in his eyes.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly. “Uh, well, this is a little bit humiliating but I’m Sam Evans. I don’t really know any nicer way to say this but, well: my father hit me on a regular basis. He was emotionally and physically abusive and every time I thought he might start getting better, he failed me.”

The parents in the audience immediately looked uncomfortable, disturbed. Sam swallowed and continued to try and bring the mood back up. “A couple of months ago, he hurt me really bad and I reached my breaking point. I called my Spanish teacher and glee club instructor for help, because I had nowhere else to go.”

He breathed in deeply. “Mr. Schuester saved my life,” he said seriously, trying not to cry as he spoke. “He took me into his house and did everything in his power to make sure that I was safe, loved and comfortable. In a few short months, he’s been more of a father to me than my own father was in my entire life.”

He looked back towards the backstage area where his friends waited. “It’s not just me though,” he said. “He’s done so much good stuff for the McKinley High glee club. We’re a bunch of kids who deal with bullying and terrible self image every day. He works with teenage depression, a need for someone to listen to and has helped us through dealing with bullies, pregnancy, trouble with the law and everything. So the entire glee club decided to put together this recital, so we could all show what we were feeling. I hope you all enjoy it and most of all, I hope you understand what we’re saying, Mr. Schue.”

Sam sang his song for his father figure, feeling the words that Quinn had so expertly helped him choose. He had so many words for Mr. Schue but these seemed to adequately describe what he was feeling. He could see the man crying in the front of the audience and he had never felt so proud for touching someone’s heart.

When he walked off stage and several of the other guys went on for the next number, he was crying. It was amazing how he was no longer afraid to cry.

After the show was over, Sam hesitantly approached the man who saved his life. “Hi,” he mumbled shyly. “What did you think?”

The man in front of him was honestly too choked up to properly reply. “Sam, I don’t even know what to say,” he admitted. “I can’t believe that you kids would go through so much and do this for me. I just…I’m … so lost for words right now.”

“You deserve it,” Sam said. “You touched so many hearts and lives and stuff and made us a family and…god, you gave me a family that I could have never dreamed of. A few months ago I was this lonely, helpless, abused kid who was only looking forward to one of Dad’s good days.”

“I promise you Sam, I’m going to give you everything you’ve always deserved and more.”

“You already have.”


End file.
